This Is Where We Used To Live

no i will not drink better water,
i like the noise of the pipes
just fine; i like
the sound of bare feet in the morning, of
yours ghosting through
the house in the hour after dawn; the
air fresh and still. (unthought) dreams
resting quietly, before the unsteady threads
of sunlight dissipate their wonders. i
will not be the one who
disturbs the patient silence of the
new day- waiting for the first
movement, and initial sound
to startle it to wakening.

by valerie jaeger

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